he had the power
to create a feeling
so delicate
a flower
truthful, elegant
beauty for eternity
-
-
i dive between your lips
how i love to feel melancholy bliss
words seem to exist between short breaths
i gasp forth for
dances in forests between rocks and saltwater
we revel in a deepened madness
one which was casually frolicked through
shaded by versions of you
loss of your rear view mirror
words which broke became clearer
things said shift forward
like the years in the corner
broken breaths in the distance
lips on your neck
such aggressive fingers
i transcend in danger
linger between hello and beaux
things make sense if you let them
we take two words and form meaning
you either listen or you move position
it was always hello
even if our conditions never listened
tongues never twisted
and i never met you
francisco -
i tango between thoughts
your head against the board
curls towards the ceiling
tips of my fingers
i tread through your edges
i blend to take and i rip to feel
the numbness has a way
i ravage the leaves of your heart
the veins i try for
my brain bleeds to touch your wits
seeming all too well
it was all but a broken down motel
in the evenings of rockwell
his edges always broken
hell had always called
it feels like it’s here
i feel all but here
in a broken down coma
with voices speaking at you
when you have everything you’ve wanted
you feel less than wanted
when you have all yet nothing
you feel a certain sadness
it takes two to tango
it takes you to feel
you always said
your favorite color is orangei could tango in the thought of you forever
words by dominic riccitello -
My desire is to be the imaginary exception.
-
we were burning on fumes of our night
twirling under a somber street light
you seem to echo like vibrations of
the foundation of our limitations
languor pulls, words transcend
we’re spinning in circles
calling for cessation
i used to wonder how this would be
the final conversation
we converse in spirits
in rhymes without reasons
and i take you between fists
not to feel but to grip
between something which feels like this
we’re dancing in paces
stuck in paraphrases
a hundred different faces
could you even fathom?
two atoms and a beat
one atop me
another beneath the street
of where i left you in fall of 23we take meaning out of moments
while the moment still exists
we forget bliss in our desires
building wildfires in the distance
a self destruction
a fixation of self isolation -
I fall in love with pages. I fall in love with details. I even fell in love with the way you stand. We become stuck in memories because sometimes that moment is intense enough to pause you.
-
i slip between
cracks of the bed
holes between boards
which never end
i’m bowing to ideas i used to call forth for
we contextualize in dark summer nights
the knots of our fingers
i’m bound by words we said
dim of shadows in the purest form
we create chaos in memories
because chaos feels almost at ease -
i blend into you
our murky water
blurring lines to fill within you
i dance in a darkness
voiding our curse to burn blues
i break to be with you
sleeping on bumps in other places
to think about you
i write in tendencies
thinking how i used to love you
i drip into thoughts
broken bliss
the loneliest abyss
and i kiss in switches
of the deepest, darkest
in drunken transitions
we spoke without words
in cloudy waters
how the frogs sing in the eve
i used to tell you how
you meant everything
yet rapids move with passage
sometimes drunken poetry
is all you can ever bask inmurky waters
words by dominic riccitello -
burning on fumes of your night
a desolation which feels quite nice
in broken hotel sheets
i can still taste your lips
the transitions between our words
we move in a darkened sensuality
and i’m begging with fists
to grip a moment of security
have you ever felt protected by a stranger?have you ever lied in twists
in dips and sudden splits
i paint you a photo
of a toxic proximity
the way your hands felt like
aggressive masculinity
and i talk in song
in form and all
your mind is gone
we danced before the wall
one astray and one near
a dozen thoughts were never clear
i always said i’d be right here
but have you ever felt
protected by a stranger
or was this always disconnected
we painted a song
one which we accepted
another unfortunately contestedmasculine hands
words by dominic riccitello -
Nostalgia feels as a sadness because it’s heavy. Thoughts bring moments, and these moments bring weight. It’s not ever truly sadness, but bittersweet. It’s like our hearts calling back to times that moved us, moments that linger. Even with its weight, there’s a quaint beauty in that pull towards what used to be.
